The Super Haunted Child Molesting Improvisation Lolbag Roflcopeter that probably may have scared people (and anaimals) with graphic displays of graphic genitalia, and may or may not contain images fit for those with a heart condition (2 hours)
Once upon a time, in a room, there was this guy. You couldn't really describe the guy, it was like if you saw him you'd immediately notice the pink hair and dead-set Ruski mug, but there is still this quality to his appearance that words can't do justice. Like, like if the words were a judge any description attempted by the words would be the equivalent to a dropped rape charge to some guy who's raping members of the jury during the trial. Because if that's going to happen it's best to smother anyone vaguely rapey with your powdered wig before anyone can get raped. It's usually at this point you wake up in a cold sweat, caked in fat-free fruit yoghurt, arms outstretched strangling the air. I have odd wet dreams.
Anywho this guy, called what'sisface, was a man. I think. He said he was, and I'm pretty sure in the right light you could make out a bulge, but then I'd have to admit to staring in that direction, he might call me gay! So yeah, whatisface, called Dave, was a guy. A guy who liked pie. He could talk as well.
"Hey."
See.
This probably doesn't look like it's going anywhere, yet. But it is, I think. It's going down the page at least. And so was Dave, sorta, he was going down on a page that he'd torn out of the sexy guide to pie, it was 6 am and there was a hunger in his eyes that sleep just could not satis-POKEMON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That show is so cool. -ify. Today was a big day for Dave, a big day indeed.
Meanwhile, millions of millimetres away two 9 year olds were on their way to school. Their debate from the night before had been interupted by sleep, and now reinvigorated by a bowl of cock loops (the erotic cereal) they were continuing the argument.
"Look, I know Guantanamo was strictly against basic human decency, but so? These people are terrorrists, isn't our national security more important than some bearded Afghan dude getting perfumed spray soap in prison?" reasoned Bilhelm, the smaller of the two, and the only one with male genitals.
Testesisawesomalina looked at him disbelievingly. "Do you think everyone there is a terrorrist? The potential to abuse the place's power is too much. And it's not about 'some afghan dude' getting clean, it's about an abuse of power and torturing." she replied, no longer smiling.
"Gaysaywhat."
"What?"
"Aha! I win again." roared the boy, hugging the crossing lady in victory.
"Augh, I'm so ripping out your intestines for my show and tell today you loser."
"Quiet whup. So now that's the justification of Guantanemo out the way, how about we move on to domestic policy. I'm not too keen on this administration's ideas for a start..."
Evidently, the two children were American. And as such there was a good chance one of them was obese. I'll Photoshop a burger into this article later.
It was then that they realised that the dinner lady Bilhelm had hugged wasn't a dinner lady at all, but a 10ft haunted sewage monster. While they had been discussing current affairs he'd been bareing his fangs and bundling them into the back of the van. His name was Jim, the monster, and he liked little children sexually.
Back to Dave, the actual focus of the story. Or whatsisface, anyway, here goes.
Dave was in shock, lying on the ground and clutching his heart for support. He would never forget the last two minutes, never. As he'd been innocently walking towards the appropriate proprietor of pies near his location a naked man had jumped out on him and yelled "BOOO!" Dave told me it was really scary, and he almost feinted. Something that would have made for an exciting article climax had I bothered to focus the narrative on him for more than two minutes. I told him he was a failure and his mother had never loved him, hence why she had spent so much of his childhood drinking and looking after random stray animals instead of him. I felt a bit bad when he started crying all over me. Maybe this is why I'm not allowed to narrate very often.